


safe here from the silhouettes behind

by sleeptodream



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 03:16:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17910971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeptodream/pseuds/sleeptodream
Summary: Maybe home could be a person, too.





	safe here from the silhouettes behind

**Author's Note:**

> First fic. Hope it's not too OOC!
> 
> Title is taken from the song Alone by HÆLOS

He should’ve been over this by now.

The sorrow, the nightmares, the unrelenting ache that flared up any time he flicked through the photo albums he’d found in the loft, or spent too long in the old barn with his father’s dream junk, or turned the record player on to the Celtic music that his mom used to slow dance to in the kitchen at night, when she thought she was alone. His parents’ spirits were woven into the very foundations of the Barns, and Ronan had not yet found the trick to untangling the two.

It was not all bad, all the time, like it used to be. He had good days now, great days even. Days full of distractions, where it was just him and Adam and this life they were carefully crafting together. But the pain never left, not completely. It lingered at the very edges of consciousness, working in fits and starts. Time had dulled its sharp edges just enough to make living manageable, to allow him to carry on while his parents did not. So he’d created the new Cabeswater, like he’d promised Adam he would, and he’d grafted away at the farm, like he’d promised himself he would. But sometimes, he still felt like it wasn’t enough. He did not want to spend the rest of his life merely _living through it._ What he wanted was to be senselessly happy, to feel the all-consuming joy that came with discovering something more and then grasping for it with both hands.

Ronan was so tired of trying for something more, though. Maybe distracted was the best he’d ever get.

Today had not been a particularly good day. In fact, it’d been one of the worst in a long while, so remarkably shitty that Ronan had caved in after several hours of debating with himself and taken the thirty minute trip into town for the one thing that was certain to ease the sting: hard liquor. This, too, was a distraction, an unhealthy one if you asked Gansey or Blue, but it did the job better than any fitness routines or journalling or, worse still, _therapy_ ever could. His friends would be disappointed in him but he hadn’t had a drink in months. He was well overdue. And today was the perfect excuse to break sobriety, a special occasion. His parents’ birthdays.

As he lay on the roof of one of the equipment sheds, not quite drunk but past the point of tipsy, he turned this fact over in his head. They would’ve both been fifty today. Well, his father would have. He wasn’t sure if his mother really had a birthday, or if that had been decided for her by her maker. He’d always thought it was romantic as a kid, two halves of a whole born minutes apart (although, if asked, he would’ve feigned disgust) but knowing what he did now about his mother’s dream origins, he wondered if it was wrong.

He loved them both but he was not blind to their flaws. Niall Lynch had been a con man, a bastard, perhaps. Aurora Lynch had been a dream woman in the most literal sense, designed to love and to nurture and to never question or ask for more. The reality of it had been difficult to reconcile with the idealistic picture of them he held in his mind, but he could not ignore the truth. His family were the product of a fairytale, fantastical on the surface but borne of dark roots.

He still missed them fiercely.

“Ronan?”

The sound of his name being called from below pulled him out of his thoughts. He sat up, leaned over the edge of the shed and found Adam waiting on the grass. No, that wasn’t right. It was Thursday. Adam had class tomorrow, and work, and an endless amount of studying to keep up with. He should’ve been hundreds of miles away at Harvard.

“I tried calling before I left,” Adam said by way of explanation. He surveyed the shed and then lay his hand down on the flat end of the roof, as if testing its weight. “Help me up?”

He could’ve got up by himself, if he tried. Adam did not seem interested in trying. So Ronan grasped at Adam’s hands as he climbed and then hauled him the rest of the way up. Adam stumbled a little before steadying himself on his feet. He did not drop Ronan’s hands.

“Shit, Parrish. If you wanted me to hold you so bad, you could’ve just asked,” Ronan said.

Adam scowled at him, all mock rage, and let go. “You’re such a shithead.”

Ronan grinned as if to say _you know it._ He sat back down on the roof, propping himself up on his elbows. Adam’s gaze followed his movements before drifting further, catching on the discarded booze bottles.

Ronan was not ashamed of his vices, because he knew everyone had one. And at least he’d stopped doing his on a regular basis, behind the wheel of a car, to the point of blacking out. There was no danger to it anymore. He’d become an amateur.

Still.

Unease welled inside him.

Adam didn’t say anything, though, and his expression didn’t waver. Instead he lay down beside him and coaxed at Ronan’s elbows until he was lying down again, their heads level. Then he leaned in and burrowed his face into the crook of Ronan’s neck, like a cat seeking out the warmest spot in the room. Ronan reached for him immediately, wrapping an arm around his waist and tangling their fingers together. He didn’t know why Adam was here, or how he’d justified this visit to himself when he had so many more pressing responsibilities on his plate, but Ronan was so grateful for his presence. He hugged him that little bit tighter – _I’m glad you’re here_  – and Adam brushed his thumb against Ronan’s palm. _Me too._

“You need to shower, you know,” Adam breathed against his neck. “And brush your teeth. I’m not kissing you till you do.”

“Who said I wanted you to?”

Adam pulled away just long enough to flip him off, then immediately reattached himself to Ronan’s side. Love and grief warred furiously inside him. He wished again that he could be over this, if only for Adam’s sake. Adam had waged his battles and won; he deserved a happiness that was dependable and uncomplicated.

As if sensing the grim direction Ronan’s thoughts had turned, Adam pulled his head back to look at him.

“What?” Ronan said gruffly.

“Nothing,” Adam said, which meant _listen up._ “Just…I love you. You know that, right?”

Of course Ronan knew that. He said it often enough. And even if he’d never said so, his actions spoke louder than words.

“I love you,” Adam said again, “and I want you to be happy. Even if it’s not how you imagined it.”

Ronan was sorely regretting ever using that phrase around him.

“If this is about using the phone –”

“It’s not about the phone. But if you’re feeling inspired, you could try giving Gansey a call every once in a while.”

“I call _you_.”

“Right,” Adam said. “And I’m not an old man in the body of a college kid that’s been resurrected twice.”

“I don’t know about that, Parrish. You sure act old man-like when you’re making me carry your lazy ass up the stairs at night.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I’ve never made you do that.”

Ronan grinned, but his mind was still fixed on _not what you imagined_  and all the possible implications. What was Adam here for, exactly?

When he asked as much, Adam’s expression softened. And that look…Ronan couldn’t handle it. He felt intimately known, all his secrets laid bare on the surface, and this, more than anything else tonight, made his eyes burn. He closed them. Held his breath. Counted internally to ten and back.

When he opened his eyes, Adam was still watching him.

“I couldn’t afford to skip my lab this morning,” Adam said, “or I would’ve driven down last night.”

“Fuck that. You didn’t have to come tonight.” _You can’t put your future on the line for me. I’d never ask that of you._

Adam just watched him with that penetrative stare of his that suggested he knew exactly what Ronan was thinking and he rejected it entirely.

“Adam –”

“Missing two classes won’t hurt my GPA. Besides, I already printed out the lecture slides. I can get the notes on Sunday.”

“I would’ve coped fine by myself.”

“You would have.”

“You could’ve just called.”

“I could have,” he agreed, “but I wanted to be here.”

It was everything Ronan wanted to hear, and everything he feared. Because how could Adam want this when Ronan was no longer sure he wanted it himself?

Not Adam. Never Adam. He’d always want Adam. But this place, the Barns, this dream world. Ronan loved it fiercely. His soul was tethered to it. And yet he could not make it into something more. It would always belong to Niall Lynch, to the family he’d lost. He didn’t know how to move past it, and the more time he spent here alone, the less he wanted to try. It was far too easy to fixate on what was missing when reminders of it were everywhere.

It wasn’t just about his parents, that was the thing. It was about everything he’d lost along with them. It was about love and warmth and a sense of belonging, all the people he cared most for safe within arm’s reach. He missed it so badly he thought he’d burst from all the longing inside him.

He’d thought he could have it again, that he could restore the Barns and build over its cracked foundations with new memories of his new family. Matthew and Declan and Adam, of course, but also Blue and Gansey, and even Henry. That was childish, though. It was a dream unlike the others, one that couldn’t be brought into reality so simply. Or at all. He couldn’t recreate what he’d lost with his parents when everyone he loved had found belonging elsewhere.

His friends had all gone off to college in various different states after their gap year, and they all seemed happier than ever. His brothers still made the drive from DC down for mass most Sundays but they would never move back permanently, not after everything that had happened here. Opal spent most of her time in the New Cabeswater, finally at peace in her own world. And Adam was here right now but he couldn’t be here forever. He had his own dreams and ambitions that he’d fought so hard for and Ronan couldn’t take that away from him, no matter how willingly Adam offered it up.

But without the Barns, where would he go? What else did he have? There was no place for a Dreamer in the real world. At least here among his father’s extraordinary dreams, Ronan knew that he belonged.

“Hey.” Adam traced at the lines of ink on his neck, a soothing touch that tethered him to the present. “Talk to me.”

“You said you want me to be happy,” Ronan said. “What if I can’t be?”

Adam frowned, considering. When he finally spoke he did so carefully, as though he’d put deep consideration into his words. “If you can’t be happy with what you have right now, we change course. We do something different.”

“And what if I’m not happy with something different? What then, Parrish? What if I’m just too fucked up to ever be happy?”

“You’re not too fucked up,” Adam said fiercely. “And if something different still doesn’t make you happy, well, we’ll keep looking until you find something that does.”

“That could take years.”

“We’ve got years.”

Ronan rested his head against Adam’s shoulder, the fight draining out of him. He wished it was as easy as Adam made it sound. He wished he could put every painful thing behind him and start over again right now, and maybe then he’d find some purpose to his life. The challenge of it felt insurmountable but with Adam beside him, he felt like maybe he could try.

If he was honest.

“I hate it here.” Admitting it felt blasphemous. A whispered confession that God or his father would strike him down for. But it was the truth. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I don’t want it like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m alone. Like I’m stuck here when everyone else has moved the fuck on. Like I’ll always be stuck here.”

“Ronan,” Adam said softly, “you don’t have to stay here.”

“It’s my __home__.”

“And it’ll always be here for you. But you don’t have to choose this if it’s making you miserable.”

“Where else am I supposed to go? I don’t fit in around real people. I’m barely a real person.”

“Okay, I love you, and I’m trying my best to be supportive right now,” Adam said, “but that is the dumbest shit you’ve ever said.”

It should have been offensive, but when Ronan opened his mouth to protest, what came out instead was laughter. Adam’s composure broke and he smiled, too. Maybe it would be all right.

“You could come back with me,” Adam said a little while later, once they’d both calmed down. “Just for a little while. To try it out.”

“I’d just distract you.”

“Probably,” he conceded. “But that’s always not a bad thing.”

“Your room-mate would shit himself.”

“Not if you rented an apartment.” When Ronan did not respond, Adam continued, “Or you could always visit Gansey or Blue. You could go anywhere you want. You’re literally a millionaire.”

“That’s…”

“You don’t have to,” Adam said. “I just thought –”

“No,” Ronan said. “I mean, you’re right. Maybe that could work.”

Adam’s answering smile was interrupted by a yawn, and all at once Ronan realized how exhausted he must’ve been after driving so long.

“C’mon, let’s go inside,” he said. He pulled himself to his feet and then held out a hand, which Adam took without hesitation. “You can work out all the boring details when you’re not dead on your feet.”

“Oh, _ _I__ can work out the details? What happened to we?”

“Consider it a workout for your lazy nerd ass.”

Adam rolled his eyes, long-suffering, but his mouth quirked at the corners. They jumped off the shed and made their way across the grass, hand in hand.

“You’re not gonna kick off if I ask you to carry me up the stairs again, are you?”

“I can do better than just the stairs, old man.”

He swooped Adam up over his back in a dramatic flourish and stumbled forward. It was a risky manoeuvre, seeing as how Ronan was not entirely sober, and Adam did not seem especially impressed by it. He yelled obscenities as Ronan struggled with both the extra weight and his own hand-eye coordination, and yelled even more when the dizziness finally caught up and Ronan tipped sideways mere metres away from the front porch.

“Oh, God,” Adam gasped. “God. You asshole. I don’t think I can move.”

Ronan rolled over onto his back as pain shot up his forearm. Bruised upon impact. He caught Adam’s eye and grinned savagely. Adam, despite his protests, grinned back. A sense of profound happiness washed over him. The sadness was still there, waiting to be treated, but for the first time tonight he didn’t feel hopeless. Maybe one day he could leave this behind.

Maybe home could be a person, too.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is definitely gonna be retconned when Call Down the Hawk comes out, but the thought of Ronan all alone at the Barns while the others are off discovering themselves has always made me sad so I wanted to write something for it. Timeline is vague but I pictured this happening sometime during Adam's sophomore year at college!


End file.
